As Children
by xxx-DaydreamBeliever-xxx
Summary: As a child she had power over him, and she does still. Slightly angsty EponinexMontparnasse oneshot.


Jerôme had always been a strange child. He seemed to look at the world with a young boy's excitement, but through an old man's eyes. He was different from young playmates he was introduced to, and usually sat out of their games, watching them through dark eyes shadowed by black curly hair.

He was an urchin, brought up by a kindly woman called Madame Clivot, whose heart had been moved by the tiny bundle found on the streets. It had been a rough area of Paris, and she was sure that whoever his parents were, they were no-one respectable. But she had been sure that with the right upbringing, little Jerôme would not follow in their footsteps.

He always seemed to view other human beings with a sort of pitying scorn, a slightly patronising disdain that left people scowling at his back as he walked away. Madame Clivot tried to explain kindness and gentle manners, but the stiff, dark child ignored her plaintive advice. He was very handsome, even as a boy, but her high hopes for a bright social future were soon dimmed to unfounded dreams.

She took him for walks in the park to try and lighten his mood, for sometimes he would smile and laugh and for a few moments look like a normal boy, happy and delighted with the world. Sometimes it came from watching the ducks, or touching a newly opened bud, or seeing a breeze make leaves skitter and dance across the grass. But then his face would close again, and he would retreat once more into the secret world of his own thoughts.

It was on one of these trips to the gardens when he was ten years old that Jerôme met her. A child not two years younger than himself who affected him quite unlike anyone had before.

The family was seated on a bench; a mother, a father and two girls - well-dressed and respectable-looking. Madame Clivot, seeing the two children playing in the grass, took Jerôme over and introduced herself to the parents. Jerôme stood awkwardly, watching the girls push sticks into the ground. They were making a fort, he deduced from their chatter, and it was going to be indestructible.

"You go and get some stones, Azelma," the older girl instructed her sister, "and we shall build a wall around it to keep enemies away."

Jerôme gave soft laugh at the folly of their game which made the girl look up.

She was very pretty, Jerôme noted coldly, for even as a boy of ten he recognised such things, though he was not interested in them. She had auburn hair which curled into ringlets quite naturally, and a heart-shaped face with grey eyes which regarded him expectantly.

"Well? Are you going to play?" She moved over to make room for him to sit on the grass. "You can help us build our fort."

"No thank you."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"Don't you enjoy games? You are a child as well, aren't you? Even if you are older than me." Her chin stuck out defiantly and she glared at him. "I think you're just being horrid."

Jerôme just stood and watched her, and finally she gave a sigh and returned to her task of digging the stones into the ground with painstaking exactness as her sister brought them to her. Every now and again she would glance up and see that he was still standing there, and give him a look that would clearly say that she thought his behaviour abnormal and rude.

Suddenly, in the middle of digging a hole with a twig, she looked up at him and asked, "Are you lonely?"

The question startled him. Lonely? He had always been alone, and had never desired the company of other children. "No."

"I think you are." she said matter-of-factly, returning to her digging. "I think you don't know how to talk to me, or anyone." Her analysis was beginning to aggravate him. "So let's start again, and see if we can be friends." She stood up.

"Bonjour, I am Éponine. Pleased to meet you." She curtsied to him. "What is your name?"

He regarded her coldly for a moment before answering. "Jerôme." After a pause, he added, "Pleased to meet you, mademoiselle."

She grinned at him and grabbed his hand to pull him down onto the grass. "Good! Now we are friends. You must help me build my fort."

He hesitated for a second, considering getting up and leaving in disgust. But as she handed him a stick and told him where to dig, he found himself drawn into her world of fantasy. So much so, in fact, that when Madame Clivot came over to take him home, he was almost sorry.

ooooo

_And who would have thought_, Montparnasse mused as he pinned her to the bed, _that so many years later, after running away from home, becoming a criminal, growing up_-

She was silent, not even whimpering as he twisted his fingers in her hair and bore down upon her-

_-that I would have you so totally in my power._

He had hardly recognised her, ugly as she was, with teeth missing and hair matted, poverty eating away at her until she was but a shadow of the happy, pretty child she had been. But she was still the only person he had ever met who had any sort of power over him, even as he took her in the grimy bed in the tiny garret, silent and submissive.

He hated that, how she could make him question himself just by regarding him with the same defiant, angry glare that she had fixed on him so many years ago.


End file.
